Silence

Some folks can live in silence, others die in it. Because our airport transfers average around an hour of driving, there's a lot of time, time which some of my customers fill and time that others do not.

Rule One for Chauffeurs: Speak only when spoken to.

In practice we don't adhere absolutely to this, but exceptions are few. Our routine is to meet arriving customers in the baggage claim area, greet them, and either walk directly to the car or wait for their baggage.

Within a few seconds, one can tell if they're silent types or not. Yes, it is odd standing next to someone at a baggage carousel for thirty minutes without passing a word. Equally oddly, for someone who loves words, this doesn't bother me in the least. In fact, I would rather remain silent than be forced into a conversation in which I cannot fully participate or listen to jibberish silence-filler.

There are some customers whom I'd happily drive to Vermont. We could gab all day and never bore ourselves. Obviously, these are the people with whom I have connected, with whom I need not filter as much. Another group of customers I'd also drive to New England, and never pass more than ten words. The third group comprises those who are constitutionally incapable of oxidizing without talking...about the first thing that reaches their tongue. For these people, a silence in the car is a small death, so naturally they talk.

The art of engaging in conversation as a chauffeur is a fine one. I cannot actually be myself - hells, I'd ask way too many personal questions - which leaves only conversational acting. I navigate these tricky waters by listening to what my customer says,and reflecting it back to them. Basically I attempt to affirm their own view of themselves, and keep my own thoughts to myself.

It's a game, and like a lot of games, it can be tiring. Frankly, I adore the silent trips, and for those I drive who think likewise, they do too. Last night, a new customer actually said so.

Joy. (And a nice tip.)






Nice photo of a Studebaker.